Florist Shop and Tattoo Parlour AU
by Ellajane2255
Summary: Anthony Lockwood; the proud owner of his very own tattoo parlour. Lucy Carlyle; the new owner of a quaint little flower shop. Can two people with such opposing personalities ever get on? You'd be surprised... Disclaimer - I don't own Lockwood & Co.


All credits go to Lucy_J_Carlyle on Wattpad for this idea - although my ending is VERY different... Also, this contains necessary Kipps - bashing, but in reality he is my baby boy and I love him! **Trigger warning: brief suicide mention**

-:-:-

Lockwood unlocked the front door, and flipped the sign to ' _open_ '. Stepping out into the cobbled street, he unlocked the mail box beside the door, and collected the post. He rifled through them, stepping back into his shop. He tossed the mail onto his desk at the back of the tattoo parlour.

The man stood over his desk, flipped open his diary, checking the appointments for the day. There weren't many, thankfully - two new clients, a few 'touch ups', and a group of girls wanting matching piercings. It would be a nice, calm Saturday. Hopefully.

There was a loud ' _crash!_ ' From the street, and he jerked up. A moving van was parked opposite, and two burly men were lifting cardboard boxes out of it, and into the empty store behind it. He quirked his head to the side, a habit. Lockwood hadn't heard anything about someone buying the property.

The passenger side door of the van opened, and a small, curvy girl climbed out. She began to move some of the smaller boxes from the van into the building. Lockwood supposed he should go and help. Glancing down, he saw that his first appointment was at eleven. Pushing open the door, the man crossed the street.

"Excuse me?"

The girl turned, and he realised just how short she actually was - she reached his chest.

"Yes?"

"I'm from just over the street, and I saw you moving in. I was wondering if you needed a hand?"

"Oh, yes, please. I'm Lucy Carlyle", she gave him a smile, and Lockwood felt his insides turn to mush. She was _so_ _cute_ ; hair cut into a short, wavy bob, flowing floral dress, lovely wide hips, and - ashamed of himself as he was to admit it - a _very_ shapely bust. His neck and ears flushed hot.

"Anthony Lockwood. But everyone calls me Lockwood. I run the tattoo parlour opposite", they shook hands.

Lucy, similarly, had been admiring Lockwood. He was tall, lean and fit. His forearms were wrapped in bold tattoos, and he had a several cartilage piercings in either ear. His thick black curls, dark eyes, and freckles gave him an almost Mediterranean complexion. The mans shirt was a _little_ too tight, and gave a faint outline of the muscles and tattoos beneath. Lucy blushed.

"So... what sort of business are you in?"

"I'm a florist"

Lockwood grinned. "Ah. Figures". Lucy's heart did a little flutter when he smiled. "How so?". "I don't know, you just seem like the florist type". "What about you? You seem a little... tame, to be a tattoo artist". The man laughed. "Yeah, you'd be surprised how often I hear that". The girls eyebrows creased in worry, "oh god, I'm sorry, I never meant-". "It's fine! You didn't know".

He bent down, stacked a couple of boxes, and picked them up. Lucy grabbed a smaller box and led the way into the shop. "Just put them down anywhere, please", she said, placing her box down in the corner. "You sure? They're pretty heavy". "Oh, okay. What's in them?". For the first time, Lockwood glanced down, and saw that the box was filled with... underwear and nightgowns. "Uh... clothes". "What sort?". "... underwear".

Lucy swallowed, and blushed. "Oh. Right. Erm... they can go upstairs. Follow me". The girl disappeared into the back of the shop, Lockwood close behind. They took a flight of stairs, and Lucy opened a door on the narrow hallway. It was a bedroom; an empty double bedframe was pushed against one wall, opposite a small decorative fireplace. He placed the boxes on the bed.

Lucy turned and went back downstairs. Lockwood looked out into the hallway, and then back at the boxes. At the top of the neatly folded pile inside was a gorgeous, nude satin nightgown. It probably reached about her mid thighs, trimmed with peach coloured lace.

His mind conjured up some _pleasantly terrible_ things he could do to that wonderful little body of hers in _that_.

Hell, better _without_ the nightie.

The man shook his head, trying to clear it of inappropriate thoughts. He'd only just met this girl, lovely as she was, and he couldn't go around... fantasising about her, he barely even knew her.

Without glancing back, he took the stairs back down into the shop. He'd made up his mind - he was going to befriend Lucy Carlyle. Maybe, if she wanted, they could be... more than friends?

Yes, Lockwood thought, he'd like that. He could invite her to the botanical gardens, or to a cafe. Well, he wouldn't really mind where he went, as long as it was with her.

-:-:-

Lockwood helped Lucy as much as he could. He'd go back to the tattoo parlour when he had clients. They normally ate lunch together; Lockwood, sat on the stool behind the counter, and Lucy, perched on the counter beside the cash register.

He really enjoyed spending time with her. He learnt lots of things about Lucy; she had trained to be a nurse but had quit because she couldn't deal with that amount of death around her, her favourite colour was duck egg green, she was originally from the Scottish border, she had six older sisters, her birthday was October 25th, and she spoke Korean.

They worked together as often as possible, and a week or so later, Lucy's flower shop was open for business.

"Shes noticed you staring, Lockwood, she's _not_ blind"

Lockwood's head jerked up from behind his newspaper. "What? What are you-?". George smiled knowingly. "Lucy. You've been watching her from behind the paper for the last twenty minutes", he wiped his floury hands on his apron, and pushed his glasses up his nose, "don't deny it. It's obvious". Lockwood scowled at the baker. "I was not. I was- I was daydreaming".

George raised his eyebrows. "Yes. About Lucy". Lockwood grunted, folding the paper in two, eyes directed in any direction that wasn't at Lucy's shop. In he corner of his eye, he could see her, moving about in the shop front, setting up things for the day. "Whatever you say. Oh, she was asking around for you earlier". The man sat up, turning in his chair to see George. "She was?". He smirked. "Yes. She said she needed a hand with something".

Lockwood stood, tossing the paper onto the table in the bakery. "Well, _I'm_ needed. See you". George waved. He pulled open the bakery door, and walked across the street to the florists. He pushed open the door, the bell chiming above him. Lucy was knelt on the floor, arranging a vase of small, white flowers. "Hey, Luce". She looked up. "Oh, hello, Lockwood". He nodded towards the flowers. "What are they?"

"Lily of the valley. They smell _gorgeous_ , here", the girl selected one and stood. He took it, and held it up to his nose. It was a clean, fresh scent. "Wow, they're lovely". Lucy smiled happily, and Lockwood's stomach dropped. She placed the flower back in the vase, and Lucy hurried to behind the desk. "Oh, George told me you wanted my help with something?".

"Oh. Right. Erm, I need you to change a lightbulb for me. I can't reach it, and I don't have a step ladder". Lockwood grinned - he supposed being tall did have its advantages, including cute girls asking you to do things for them. "Sure. Lead the way". Lucy rummaged under the desk for a moment before pulling out a lightbulb. "Right through here".

She led the way into the back, upstairs, and into a smallish room decorated as a cozy, feminine living room. Hanging in the middle of the room was a naked light fixture. "You see my problem?", Lucy asked. He smiled. "I'll see what I can do", he took the bulb, and stood underneath the light.

Lucy watched in fascination as Lockwood stretched his arms above his head. His shirt untucked itself, and she was rewarded with a flash of toned, tattooed stomach. The muscles lining his hips were well defined, and her eyes trailed down... much further that she'd first intended for them too. She bit her lip. She didn't know he worked out.

"There. All done", he said suddenly, tucking his shirt back in. "Thanks for that", Lucy was still transfixed on his torso, "I didn't know who else to ask. Sorry". "No problem", Lockwood handed her the old bulb, and shoved his hands into his pockets, "just give me a shout if you ever need anything". "Thankyou, Lockwood".

They went downstairs, and Lucy jumped onto the counter. Lockwood perched on the stool behind it, before getting up again to wander around the shop. "You once said that every flower has a different meaning, didn't you?". The girl nodded, "yep. Although not many people outside of floristry know or pay attention to them". "Huh", he crouched down in front of a pot of vibrant red flowers, "what are these?". Lucy swivelled her legs over the counter to face him. "Azalea. They symbolise femininity or passion". Lockwood stood, and moved towards a big glass vase of daffodils.

He smiled. "Heh, I actually know what these are. Daffodils". Lucy nodded, "yep. They mean chivalry or new beginnings". "These?", he paused beside some big, pink blooms. "Peonies. They can either mean shame and bashfulness, or in some cultures, masculinity and prosperity". He nodded slowly. "Is there anything you're looking for in particular?", the girl asked.

Lockwood pursed his lips slyly, an idea forming, "yes. I'd like to... to ask a girl on a date". Lucy paused, a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Oh? How... how long have you known her?". Lockwood grinned, eyes focused in the far distance. "Not long". "Does... does she like you back?". He shrugged. "Perhaps. I certainly hope so".

Lucy slid off the counter, hoping to hide her disappointment. It was silly of her to even think that someone as attractive as him would even give her a second glance. There was nothing special about her in the slightest. "Then maybe some gardenia. It represents secret or unrequited love. Besides, they're in full bloom this time of year". He took one from the vase she stood beside, and sniffed it. It was a heady, heavy scent, and breathing it in made him somewhat dizzy. Sort of like the girl he intended to give it to.

"I'll take one of these, please", he handed her the flower, and she rang it up behind the counter. "So... who's the lucky girl?", Lucy gave a nervous laugh, holding out the flower for him to take.

He didn't move to take the bloom. "You".

Lucy's face could put a tomato to shame.

"M- me?"

Lockwood smiled and nodded. "There are some gorgeous botanical gardens nearby and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me sometime?".

Lucy looked down, gently rubbing the petals of the flower. Then she looked up, cheeks flushed. "Lockwood, I'd love to".

He grinned, giddiness flooding through him. "Luce, I-"

"On one condition"

His smile fell a little. "Of-of course. Anything!".

"You do my tattoo. I've been thinking about getting one for a while now, but I've never had the confidence to do it"

His smile was brighter than before. "Of course! I'd love you- _too_! Too! I mean too!". Normally so suave and charismatic, Lucy Carlyle just had _that_ effect on him.

She giggled, and came around the cash desk to hug him. Her arms went up around his shoulders, and he pulled her close.

If he wasn't blushing before, he definitely was now.

-:-:-

Lockwood was mighty impressed by Lucy's pain tolerance - that, or her acting skills. She wasn't scared of the needle, and she didn't spasm when he switched it on.

They were sat at his desk, flicking through a book of tattoos he'd done before. She chose a colourful, delicate garland of flowers to go around her ankle. He drew it out carefully, enjoying having her lovely legs across his lap.

Lockwood traced it, talking to her as he did so. The whole thing took about three hours, and she was sore at the end. He was very nervous when she got to see it, but she loved it, and rewarded him with a peck on the cheek, and a pretty blush.

Now, Lockwood was stood alone, outside the Palm House of the botanical gardens, awaiting his date. He was wearing a black button up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. They showed off his tattoos; Japanese dragons, big flowers, bright Koi carp, and stylised waves. His trousers were a little too - tight, as usual.

Lucy was a couple of minutes late - or rather, fashionably late. She was wearing white flats, and a pretty floral dress that showed off her collarbones and legs, her tattoo too. His heart melted. He stood up straight as she approached, and gave her his most charming smile.

"Hey", he kissed her cheek. "Hi. Sorry I'm late", she said awkwardly. Up close, he could see that she was a little flushed with exertion, her wavy hair fluffy and unkempt.

On a whim, he reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She blushed again. He gave a lopsided grin.

They spent the next hour or so, hand in hand, walking around the gardens. Lucy knew pretty much everything there was to know about the plants on show, and he loved seeing her talk about something she was passionate about. Her eyes lit up, and she positively glowed. She was adorable, in every sense of the word.

They paused beside the fountain in the middle to take photos of each other. Lockwood got a gorgeous photo of Lucy laughing at something he'd said, and she got one of him looking away, distracted, into the middle distance.

"So", he asked, "how are things?". "Pretty good, thanks. Got a big wedding order in today, they're paying good money, and it's easy flowers to work with".

"I'm no expert on flowers", he held up a tattooed arm, "but I _do_ know good business when I hear it".

"Oh, do you now?", she asked teasingly. They paused in the middle of a secluded path, and he looked down at her, a devilish look in his eyes.

"Who do you take me for?", he asked, looping an arm around her waist, and pulling her closer.

"I don't know", she smiled, "why don't you tell me".

"I didn't know you liked flowers, Tony"

The two jumped apart, Lucy looking guilty and flushed, Lockwood looking somewhat irritated at being disturbed only inches from Lucy's lips.

Quill Kipps stood there, wearing a muddy green apron, and gardening gloves. He had a trowel tucked in his pocket, and dirt smeared on his face.

Lockwood hadn't seen him in months, not since he quite the tailoring business. Actually, it was Lucy who had bought his old shop.

"He doesn't. I do", Lucy replied, a tad impertinently. Quill smirked, and Lockwood knew what was coming next.

"Who's this?", he nodded at Lucy.

"New friend. Well, newish"

"Lucy Carlyle, florist. And you are?", Lucy held out her hand.

Kipps shook it. "Quill Kipps. It's a _pleasure_ to meet Tony's new girlfriend"

"That would be me", she smiled. It was forced. "Quill, we were kind of in the middle of something here...", Lockwood said pointedly.

"Oh, were you? Was it making other people uncomfortable? Because if so, congratulations!"

With that, and a final smirk, he stalked off back down the path in the direction they had just come.

"What a nasty man", Lucy murmured. Lockwood nodded. "You haven't seen the half of it". They set off again, the man stealing her hand back after a few seconds. "Actually, he used to own your shop. He was a tailor". She frowned. "All the tailors I've ever met have been lovely. But I suppose there are always exceptions to the rule".

They talked about different things, walking around the gardens until they closed. Lockwood guides Lucy home, seeing her safely through the door, and kissing her adoringly on the cheek. She closed the door, locked it, and waved at him, before taking the stairs upstairs.

He walked back to his shop, grinning from ear to ear. _What a success!_

Glancing at his watch, it had only just gone six o'clock. Deciding he should probably do something productive with his time, he packed his gym clothes into a bag, and set off on the short walk to the gym.

-:-:-

Lockwood pushed the glass door open, and stepped out into the darkened street. He slipped an earbud into one ear, unpaused his music, and adjusted the strap on his shoulder.

It was cold, a frost coating some of the pavement stones. His gym clothes were thin, but he was warm enough.

Turning, he noticed with dismay that the streetlights were off down his street. It was fine, he knew the street like the back of his hand. Looking back down at his phone, Lockwood tapped out a text to Lucy.

Lockwood: Thanks for today - it was great fun xx same time next week?

He tapped send, and tucked the phone into his pocket.

"Hey! Gimme your wallet!"

Lockwood's head snapped up. A shadowy figure was stood a metre infront of him, grasping something that glimmered in the dim light.

Slowly, Lockwood removed his earbud. "Okay, okay", he raised his hands, "just... here". He reached into his pocket, and held out his tattered leather wallet, all the while discreetly trying to remember the face of the man infront of him. "That's everything I've got".

The man reached out to snatch it, and Lockwood grinned to himself. He had him. Then, quick as lightning, he snatched the man's wrist and pulled him close, bending his arm back at an awful angle.

There was loud snap, and the man screamed. The knife clattered to the floor, Lockwood kicked it away. He shoved the man, sending him slipping over on the icy pavement. Lockwood grabbed his wallet and bag, and readied himself to run. If he'd attacked Lockwood, then he might've attacked someone else too. He needed to protect Lucy.

But the man was quicker; he snatched up the knife with his good arm, and plunged it into the soft flesh below his ribs. Lockwood roared in pain, adrenaline allowing him to force the man off him. The knife slid out, now coated in a sickly dark liquid.

The attacker, shocked and scared by Lockwood's show of self defence, turned and fled into the dark.

Lockwood clamped a hand over the wound on instinct, coughing up some blood onto the pavement.

 _Shit._

 _That couldn't be good._

Shock stopped him from panicking. _Okay, think, think, think, think. You've been stabbed. What do you do?_

The hospital was too far for him to walk. An ambulance wasn't an option either, he could barely speak, blood bubbling up in his throat, the pain made it hard to focus. His mind fluttered trough al the possible options- and then he remembered Lucy.

He smiled, despite the pain. She had been a nurse - she'd know what to do!

He was vaguely aware of his legs moving, taking him forwards. The pain in his ribs was more intense now, and he cursed colourfully under his breath.

It was just another few meters to Lucy's door, if he could just...

It might as well have been the Atlantic Ocean for all the hope Lockwood held of crossing it before he collapsed.

He reached the edge of her shopfront, before his breaths began to fail. It was hard to stand, and his legs started to shake.

 _He was dying_ , Lockwood realised with a jolt.

He was going to die, here, in the street, covered in blood and sweat.

He closed his eyes. His blood was pooling on his tongue again, but he didn't have the energy to spit it out.

Then his mind fought back. _The hell you're going to die now,_ it growled, _not when you're dating the best girl in the world. Get up._ Lockwood smiled hazily at the thought of Lucy's smile and blush.

Then he realised that if he died, he'd never get to see it again.

Determination flooded through him. Stumbling the last metre or so to the door, he fell to his knees, and hammered on it. Silence.

He spat out the blood, and cursed. He banged again, harder this time. There was a click above him, and the window opened. It slide upwards, and Lucy leant out of it.

She had clearly been asleep, her hair messy and her eyes bleary, but they cleared when she saw Lockwood, knelt in a puddle of liquid darkness on her doorstep.

"Lockwood? What on Earth-"

"Help, please", he croaked.

Lucy froze for a moment, and he could see the panic in her eyes. The her nurses training kicked in.

She closed the window. There was a moment of silence, then she appeared downstairs. She unlocked the door, opened it, and knelt beside him.

"Christ, Lockwood, what happened?"

He just shook his head. The girl pulled his arm over her shoulder, and helped support him. He was taller, and considerably heavier than her, but she practically dragged him over to the desk. She shoved the cash register onto the floor, and pushed him to lay down.

"Stay there. Don't move an inch"

Lockwood nodded limply, and shut his eyes.

" _No!"_

Her sharp voice and her hands on his shoulders made him open them.

"Don't. Don't sleep. Stay awake. Stay with me", she shook him gently, and he could see the fear in her eyes. He longed to be able to kiss it away, to hold her, safe in his arms.

She disappeared into the back and hurried back with a first aid kit. Unzipping it, she removed some scissors and set about cutting open his shirt. She pulled it back, revealing the extent of the damage to his torso.

From what she could see there was one stab wound, probably from a pocket knife, fairly big, bleeding heavily. Possible damage to the lung or other organs. It could become infected, but that wasn't important right now. First things first, get pressure on the wound. She ran through her mental procedure list, desperately trying not to blush at the fact Lockwood was topless infront of her. His tattoos, although many were hidden by the gushing blood, were gorgeous.

 _The man had been stabbed for God's sake, now was not the time._

Wadding up some bandages, she forced them into his hand, and guided it to the cut. "Here. Hold this", she pushed his hand down, "press down. Hard". He pressed down with as much strength as he could muster, which wasn't much.

She ran to the phone, and called for 999. An ambulance would be there in eight minutes she reckoned, and until then she'd just have to stop him bleeding out.

She ran back to him, and grasped his spare hand tightly. His eyes were cloudy, and his breaths were shallow.

"Luce..."

The adrenaline had started to wear off, and Lucy felt tears pricking her eyes. "Right here, Lockwood, I'm right here", she raised his hand to her lips, kissed one of his calloused knuckles, his hand dwarfing hers.

He blinked a couple of times. "You're so beautiful...", he said quietly. Despite everything, she blushed. The man could be on the verge of death and still be charming. That just wasn't normal.

Trying to distract herself, she placed her hand over his and pressed down on the wound. It was still bleeding, and he must have lost a couple of gallons of blood.

It wasn't looking good.

"Who did this to you?", Lucy asked quietly, her voice breaking. The man opened his mouth, and coughed up more blood. Lucy wiped it away with a bandage, and kissed his forehead. That was encouragement enough.

"I... I don't know. He... wanted my wallet and I... broke his arm..."

"What did he look like?"

The man shook his head. He didn't know. With clouded eyes, he looked at the girl beside him. She was bravely holding back tears, still clinging to his hand.

She was also wearing that lovely nightie from a few weeks ago. Granted, she had a thin, white, untied - now blood splattered - robe over the top, but he was still greeted by the valley of her breasts, and pretty much the entirety of her legs. But what was under the silk material wasn't exactly hidden, either.

If there was any blood left in him, there was no question where it would have gone.

Unable to keep them open, Lockwood allowed his eyes to drift shut. A warm, numb feeling washed over him. He couldn't feel Lucy's tenacious grip on his hand, or the sharp pain in his ribs, either.

"Lucy..."

Then, she was kissing him.

It took several moments for him to react. She had just pulled him back from the verge of death. Her lips were wondrously soft, and there was a certain naivety in her movements, and it didn't take long for him to realise she'd never kissed anyone properly before. _Jesus_ , _she was the hottest person he knew! What did she spend University doing? Studying? Pff._

The blood loss, the shock, the fact that _he was dying_ , meant that she had pulled away before he could do anything. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Lucy was properly crying now, tears running down her rounded cheeks.

" _Don't you dare die on me, Anthony Lockwood_! _Don't you dare! I love you_!", she shouted, " _I shan't ever forgive you if you do! You awful, horrible man!"_

For a moment, Lockwood was a tad confused as to why he was an awful person because he was _dying_ , and then he passed out.

-:-:-

Either being dead was a lot more painful than he expected, or Lockwood was alive.

Completely off his head on painkillers, but alive.

He opened his eyes, to be met by the bland, white panels of a hospital ceiling. There was dull ache in his left side, and he was stiff all over.

Manoeuvring himself into a rough sitting position, he looked around the room. There was an IV drip beside his bed, along with a heart monitor and several other machines of undetermined purpose.

There was a window opposite the bed, and it was raining. Hard. The clock nearby said it was about two in the afternoon. There was a shuffling sound beside the bed, and Lockwood looked around.

Beside the bed, curled into an uncomfortable looking chair, was Lucy. She had on... _his?_ Big blue hoodie and dark leggings, her hair a curly mess. Her treasured breaths whispering in and out. A bubble of strong affection formed in his chest, and he smiled at her sleeping form.

Removing the extra blanket that had been thrown over his bed, he draped it carefully over her, trying not to wake her. She needed it more than he did. Reaching out, he brushed a finger along her knuckles, and she reached out clumsily and grasped his hand.

"Good afternoon, Mr Lockwood!"

"Shh!". The nurse who had entered paused, and smiled. " _Ah. Sorry_!", she whispered. Lockwood grinned.

The woman pottered around the room as quietly as she could, checking his vitals and jotting things on a clipboard at the end of his bed. She gave him some pills to take, which he did so, one handed. She left with a knowing smile at their intertwined hands.

After a little while, Lucy began to stir, and her hazel eyes fluttered open. He grinned gently. "Hey, Luce".

She gasped, eyes wide. "Oh my god! You're awake!", she nearly fell out of the chair, but he caught her. "Hey, woah, careful", Lockwood smiled, "one of us is in hospital, the other doesn't need to be".

Tears prickled Lucy eyes then, making his heart ache, and he pulled her into his chest. "I nearly lost you", Lockwood whispered into her hair, clutching at the hoodie. Lucy was practically kneeling on the bed, arms around his neck.

"I should be the one saying that", she whispered, enjoying his strong arms around her. They stayed like that for a little while, before they untangled themselves. Lucy kept a vice - grip on his hand though.

"What day is it?", Lockwood asked. "February 12th", Lucy replied, "you've been out for three days". "And you've been here for how many of them?", he asked with a smile.

She blushed as she noticed she was still wearing his hoodie. "Two and a half", she replied, "I went back halfway quickly to get some clothes and to shower, and to tell George, but otherwise... I didn't want to leave you".

"Who's looking after your shop?", Lockwood asked concernedly. He was okay; he had an apprentice, Josh, who would be looking after the shop for a week or so. But Lucy ran her shop independently.

She frowned. "You've... just been stabbed... and you want to know... who's looking after my shop?". He nodded. She looked at him for a moment.

"You _really_ need to get your priorities in order"

He grinned. "Hey, I'm alive aren't I?". "Barely", Lucy replied, and looked down at her hand in his, "You really scared us. They reckon if the blade had been a couple of millimetres to the left it would have punctured your lung. You're incredibly lucky".

"I know", he stated, "I have you". She blushed. "That's not what I meant!", she yelped. "And you haven't answered my question", he cut in. She sighed. "My sister, Mary. She was coming to visit anyway, to see the shop. And I guess she is".

"And she's the... youngest after you?", he tried to remember the names of her sisters and the order they were born in.

"Yep. I explained everything, and she's dying to meet you". "Really? What did you say?". "Just that you're extremely tall, dark, and handsome, and that you run a tattoo parlour". He quirked a dark eyebrow elegantly.

"Are you sure that's not a slight exaggeration? I would hate to disappoint any of the Carlyle family". She laughed and blushed. "I showed her that photo of you by the fountain, and she said that if I didn't marry you, she would".

"I'm sure she's lovely", he tugged her gently closer, "but I doubt she's anything compared to you". She turned bright red. He grinned.

"Oh, they caught the guy who did it!", Lucy exclaimed, "he came in shortly after you. Made up some story about falling off his bike. How did you break his arm? That requires quite some force, it couldn't have just been an accident".

Lockwood shrugged. "I was in the army for a few years. They taught us hand - to - hand combat. I could teach you, if you like".

Lucy's eyes widened. "Wait, you were in the army? But you're- oh god I just realised I don't know how old you are". He smiled. "I'll be twenty six in April. How about you?". "I'm twenty one. Okay, so, what's your- life story I guess?".

Lockwood looked away, and sighed. "Well, if I tell you, you have to tell me". "Okay, deal".

"I was born in London, and my parents were philanthropists. I had one sister, Jess. They were killed in a car crash when I was seven, so Jess took over running the household. She died when I was nine. She... hung herself".

He swallowed thickly.

Lucy pulled him into her arms. "Oh god, Lockwood, I'm so sorry". He rested his head in her collarbone, breathing in her perfume. "It's alright. It's not your fault. There... there weren't any signs or..."

Taking a deep breath, he sat up, and took her hand. "After that, I was assigned to a guardian. Nigel Sykes. He was a tattoo artist - one of the best. He inspired me to do whatever I wanted to do. But when I turned eighteen, I panicked, realised I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do with myself. So I joined the Army".

"I did a years training, and three years service in the Middle East. It was there I realised that life is exceptionally fragile. You have to embrace it. Do what you love, not what others want you to. So I quit, and became a tattoo artist. Got my license, bought a shop, and haven't looked back". He smiled. "Now you".

Lucy paused to let his words sink in. "Okay, but mines nowhere near as interesting. I was born the youngest of seven sisters, to a drunk dad, and a mum who didn't remember my birthday".

"At sixteen I got a college scholarship to Korea, to learn the language, studied nursing, got my degree, and went back home. Dad had died of kidney failure, so it was just mum and us. After a year, all my sisters had either married and moved out or gotten jobs in the city, so it was just Mary, mum, and I".

"I inherited a little bit of money from a great - great aunt who had just passed away, so I figured I might as well become a florist. It's something I've always loved, and now I can do it. And... yeah". He smiled at her. "That's not boring. I mean, six sisters? And I thought one was too many", he teased.

She laughed. "They can be pretty annoying, but I wouldn't change them for the world".

There was a comfortable silence for several minutes, Lockwood trapping Lucy's hand in his and holding it on the duvet.

Eventually, he spoke. "Lucy, I've been meaning to ask...", he shifted up in the bed, grimacing in pain, "Would you... like to get drinks sometime? If not, that's fine, I just wanted to ask to check and-"

The man cut off as Lucy practically climbed onto the bed, and pressed her lips to his. It was a little messy, inexperienced, but Lockwood loved it. It was _the_ hottest thing he could think of, knowing that he was the first person to kiss her like that.

And, unlike last time, he wasn't missing this opportunity.

Forcefully, but not roughly, he pulled her further onto the bed, arm around her back so she didn't fall. Her hands sought out his shoulders, fingers digging into them.

It was a chaste kiss; his hands had stayed quite firmly on her hips, and hers on his shoulders, lips closed, lingering only for a few seconds.

It was still the best kiss Lockwood had ever had.

Almost self - consciously, Lucy placed a hand to her mouth, and touched it carefully. Still somewhat dazed, Lockwood remarked, "you've never kissed anyone before"

"No"

"Oh"

Lucy paused, staring at him. Then she pulled away, almost tumbling off the bed. Instinctually, Lockwood tightened his grip around her waist, not allowing her to escape. Even in his weakened state, he was considerably bigger _and_ stronger than her.

"Lucy? Is everything alright?"

She pushed at his chest, careful not to touch the wound. "Lockwood, please, just... let go"

Slowly, he released her, and she slipped off the bed. Lockwood sat there, racking his brains for something that he had said that might have altered her mood so suddenly.

"Lucy, have I said something wrong?"

She picked up her battered little rucksack, then dropped it on the chair. Her hands grasped the bottom of his hoodie, but he gripped her wrist, stilling her instantly.

"Lucy. What's wrong? Did I say something?"

Slowly, the girl released the hem of the sweater, and allowed him to take her hand.

"I... nothing. I'm just being silly"

"No, you're not. What's wrong?"

Lucy didn't look at him, and he sighed.

"I would like to think I have a right to know why my girlfriend is upset"

Her head shot up, eyes fixing on him. "Girlfriend?"

Lockwood nodded slowly. "Yes. Well, I mean, I just assumed that... unless you'd rather not-"

"No! No, I mean...", both gazed at each other awkwardly. Then the man in the hospital bed sighed.

"Luce, I like to think I have a right to know why my _friend_ is upset"

"Wha- well, I don't... it's not...", she trailed off, fiddling with one of the hoodie drawstrings, "it's... silly. Don't worry"

"If it's upset you, it can't be silly", he replied solemnly.

Lucy was silent. "You're going to laugh at me. I just know it". "I would never laugh at you being upset, Luce". "... alright"

She shifted her rucksack back onto the floor, sitting in the chair. At first, she folded her hands neatly in her lap, then on the arms of the chair, and then finally just loosely on her thighs.

"I've... never been in a relationship, before", she admitted quietly, "my parents were very strict, and then, in Korea, I just never really had a chance...". She shifted uncomfortably, eyes on the floor.

"And... I met this guy, a few months ago, before I moved, in a bar... we flirted a bit... and when I told him I hadn't had a boyfriend before, he just... laughed at me"

Lockwood reached over and pulled the now - sniffling girl into his arms. "And I thought... that you'd do the same-"

He cut her off, slapping her butt gently, so that she yelped. "You silly goose", he whispered, the teasing words contrasting with the breathy tone of his words. Lucy pushed herself up using his shoulders, looking a tad incredulous. "Wait- so it... doesn't bother you?"

Lockwood pressed her to sit on the bed, and leant and whispered in her ear. "Lucy, hearing that no one has ever had you before me is about the hottest damn thing I've ever heard"

She blushed bright red. That certainly wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting.

"Oh..."

He cocked a dark eyebrow, and sat back. "Of course, I don't want to pressure you into anything you're not ready for, so... perhaps instead you'd bring it upon yourself to kiss a wounded man?". He let his head drop back limply onto the pillows, and feigned lifelessness.

Lucy snorted, but pressed her lips to his. When she drew back, she whispered. "Dork"

"I never claimed to be anything else", Lockwood replied with a charming wink, and pulled her back for another kiss.

She paused halfway, and smiled. "My first official act as you girlfriend will be to knock some sense into that handsome head of yours"

He grinned. "Oh? So I'm _handsome_ now, am I?"

She laughed.


End file.
